


Where Bonds Lie

by Kitkatjul



Category: Demon - Fandom
Genre: Angels, Demon, M/M, Original Characters - Freeform, THIS SOUNDS LAME BUT BEAR WITH ME
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 07:14:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8965456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitkatjul/pseuds/Kitkatjul
Summary: (So this was basically a roleplay with other very talented writers and our OCs)





	

It was warm. About as warm as any time before in this vast desert so early in the morning as he sat in the back of a HMMWV, waiting to arrive to the rally point. Avalen said nothing as he surveyed the endless sands passing in front of him blanketed in the faint light of day break, resisting the urge to wreak havoc where he sat. He took no sides, he had no political opinion. Just an overwhelming urge to tear off the jaw to the soldier to his left. That, of course, was expected of a wrath demon born of sin. There was no recollection of any emotions besides anger and blood lust because there never was any. That is the particular reason demons of the seven deadly sins were ranked lowly as compared to the full demons or the fallen that resided among them.   
He had never met any of these men before, but he knew their lives. All fighting for some noble cause or the need to better their current life. None of them questioned his presence this time.  
It was three hours before they finally reached their point, hitting about 0742 when he finally stepped out of the vehicle. It was 0802 when the enemy struck.  
Suddenly across the field he saw a full grown man(ish) running on all fours tackling the man he was about to strangle with intestines. The hell hound.  
"Tekkus, back!"  
The man stared at him with his tongue out, excitement shining boldly in his eyes. Stubborn piece of shit. Hard to believe he was once the right hand of Lucifer himself.  
The young demon sighed in frustration, removing his combat boot and throwing it 20 yards out. The hound shot away within seconds, taking on the true hell hound form. He couldn't maintain his old form for very long.   
Avalen turned back to the task at hand, standing over a slightly afraid/confused man. With only one boot. He had to hand it to the soldier, though. He shot him in 8 seconds with 10 rounds.  
The wrath demon looked more irritated than he was impressed. A flick of the wrist and he was in full momentum to cut open the soldier's gut. Until Tekkus came back.  
At full speed, the once revered man tackled him to the ground, leaving him dazed and in a new location.

Royal blue light shone down on the pale green grass and thin, shallow river. Clear and calm, it rushed down the way, but he dared not touch the waters. The dark, barren trees surrounding him looked morbid and threatening swaying so slowly. This is where souls resided, the colorful lights swarming above him calmly. The waters were acidic to any solid creature, the tears of the restless spirits who's dreams were washed away.   
This was a place of peace among the Angels and Demons. Through the trees across the river, he could see a soul being accepted to heaven by an average angel. Where the demons had the seven deadly spirits, the angels had the fruit of the spirit. By random guess, he deemed her peace.  
Tekkus was no where to be found and there were no demons in sight. Avalen cursed under his breath, walking along the bank. Transportation was not his specialty.

Avalen had been born of the wrath in Sparta. He hid among their ranks and slaughtered with them. He was young, naive, susceptible to emotions. He fought beside a man named Aethon, who was only 16 when he left with the spartan soldiers, but 23 when he met Avalen. He was already married to his childhood friend and was a good man. He and Avalen were incredibly close from the start. He was an equal match for his wrath, but was pure as snow in mind. An honest boy, would be a wonderful father and leader. And by god, he was. "Fight for the core of your desires, the protection of what you know. Victory and valor be with you." He and Avalen rose in ranks among the soldiers and led a defense mission when there were invaders on home turf (age 28). That is when the wrath of Aethon emerged. He witnessed someone attempting to violently rape his wife. Blood was coated on the walls and there were fingers and limbs spread out. A few years later (age 36) when Aethon received a grand promotion, they held a grand celebration. That's when the drunken night happened. Whispers and promises were made that should not have been uttered. He was so close to being human that night, he was convinced that was what love was. He was so engulfed in everything about him. It was when someone tried talking dirty about his promotion that Avalen remembered his wrath. He tore out the mans lung and gouged his eyes simultaneously. Aethon, of course, found out. He had no recollection of the night they had spent together and had confronted him in his jail cell. Avalen told him of his true nature and feelings, but the man spat on him.  
Age 39. Avalen held that anger for three years. Aethon had just celebrated his sons birthday the week prior before they were to leave for a major battle. This is where Avalen became a true wrath demon. Anything to come into his sight was killed brutally. Even the Spartans. Aethon was sent to dispose of him. He sneaked from behind and tackled him, dagger in hand and spitting curses. Avalen didn't think. He killed him immediately. In grief, he slaughtered his family, too. He didn't want to see any of his descendants ever again.  
Since then, Avalen had been going anywhere on Earth to raise havoc. The vikings were a particular favorite of his for their lack of tactics or grace. His job is simply to keep the chaos in the air as long as possible.  
That is, until someone suddenly broke his train of thought.


End file.
